Come What May
by samanthavee
Summary: The second installment of my own little Phantom world. Erik's and Kerri's journey continues....
1. Chapter 1

"Oh my God!"

Erik laughed at Kerri's awe struck face.

"Well what did you expect?"

"I…I don't know….It's just so _big_!"

"Somewhere around one hundred rooms. Now we can have all the courtiers and financiers we want."

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, exactly what I want."

The carriage stopped right in front of the massive oak doors. Two servants were out and collecting the bags before Delia or Marie even had a chance to move.

"It's fully staffed?"

"For now." Erik shrugged. "If they're incompetent, I can always fire them."

"So you've never actually lived here?" Kerri raised her eyebrows.

"No, not really."

Kerri took one last look at the castle, and squealed with ecstasy.

"This is so amazing." She sighed. Erik wrapped his arms around her waist, biting her ear.

She giggled, kissing him sideways.

"We don't want to see anything the two of you've got to offer." Delia groaned, carrying bags past them inside. She was seriously beginning to regret going along with all of this. Although it had all been beautiful, ever since they'd gotten married in Siada, the two of them had been all over each other.

"Take me on a tour." Kerri said.

"I know as much about this place as you do."

She sighed, tugging on his hand.

"Well let's go exploring then!"

Erik groaned. He was tired, and the only thing he wanted to explore was the inside of his eyelids.

He indulged her anyway, discovering the location of the kitchen, dining room, ball room (complete with grand piano), the library, and six of the first floor bedrooms.

"Umm, sir, we've prepared the West Wing for you." A servant approached them timidly, handing him a key.

"Hmm…the West Wing. It sounds big." Kerri took the key from him.

"It sounds secluded." Erik nodded. Kerri arched her eyebrow suggestively.

She dashed down the hallway, sliding around a corner, causing the floor runner to bunch up. Erik followed her, cornering her between the door and the wall.

"It's labeled." She pointed to a gold plaque on the door.

"Aren't we lucky?" He teased.

"At least we won't get lost."

She slowly put the key in the door, turning it.

"Wait a minute." Erik kept her from turning the knob.

"What?"

"Close your eyes."

"Why?" She crossed her arms. "What are you hiding?"

"It's a surprise. Just close them."

She reluctantly she shut her eyes, and Erik covered them wish his hand so she couldn't peek.

He led her inside, stopping every so often to turn on the gas lamps.

"Alright, open your eyes."

Kerri expected to see some kind of animal or something of that nature.

But he surprise was the room. It reminded her instantly of India her favorite country, with the rich paint colors and silk and careful embroidery on every piece of furniture.

"Erik…"She whispered. "This is fantastic."

"You like it then?" He hugged her from behind.

"Like' doesn't quite cover it." She laughed. "I don't want to touch anything. It's all so perfect!"

"Well it would be a shame to have it all decorated for you and then not use it."

"This is for me?"

"For us, really, but I couldn't care less what the room looked like."

She turned around into his arms, kissing him softly, running her tongue along his lips.

The kiss was limitlessly passionate, just like the two who were a part of it. Kerri eagerly unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing to reveal a now powerful and muscular physique. While in Persia, he had picked up on yoga. Now, not only was he more level headed and confident, but his already wide frame had filled out.

Kerri's dress was on the floor, leaving her in only a light chemise. Erik's chest rose and fell quickly from self-control; it was taking everything he had not to rough her up. She had a bad habit of teasing him to the point of insanity.

Kerri crawled up on to the bed, feeling slightly guilty for wanting to have sex on such pretty things. The quilt quickly left her as Erik crawled on top of her, his rough hands sliding down her back to cup her buttocks, bringing her hips closer to his.

They both jumped as suitcases toppled over. A servant girl had apparently elected to bring their luggage to them. She hadn't thought of knocking.

"Where do you want these things, Madame?"

She was either choosing to ignore their compromising position or attempting to play it off.

"Just leave them there, thank you." Kerri's voice was high strung and breathy; Erik had himself pressed firmly against her thigh, and it was driving her insane.

"Okay." The girl left quietly, shutting the door. It took Erik a half a second to take off his pants and bury himself in Kerri, patience be damned.

She whispered his name, unable to find a voice beyond that. She pressed her forehead to his, a fine sheen of sweat forming between them. She wished desperately there was deeper contact that skin on skin.

"And these, Madame?" The girl was back again. She was holding garment bags. Erik froze, or at least made it seem like he had. His hips were still moving, at a dead slow pace, which only made Kerri more aroused.

"Couch." She gasped, arching her back so their chests were touching.

"If someone put her up to that, remind me later to shoot them." Erik's breath was hot against her ear. He had made his strides longer and upwards. Kerri nodded, kissing his neck and biting his ear. Erik groaned, moving her thighs wider apart so he could kneel between them. This put Kerri's hips at an even more upward angle and moved them closer together until she could feel him in her stomach.

"Erik…oh God…" She gasped, her whole body shaking in ecstasy.

"Kerri…I love you so much…" He gasped, kissing her neck and spilling his seed inside of her. They both collapsed onto the bed, spent beyond all movement. Erik's chest was tight, but that happened often.

Kerri rolled them over so now she was straddling Erik, her chin propped up on his chest.

"Hey, do you remember when I asked you what you wanted for your birthday?"

"Yes. I also remember telling you that everything I could ever want I already have."

She smiled.

"Well, I figured out what I want to get you."

"I mean it Kerri. You don't have to get me anything." He touched her face, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. He was warm, and she leaned into the gesture.

"How about a baby?"

"What?"

She smiled wider. Erik sat up.

"Kerri, are you pregnant?"

She nodded, biting her nail.

"But…how? Didn't you say…?"

"Virtually impossible. There was always a very minute chance…"

"How long?" His face was very serious. Was he mad?

"Italy?" She replied meekly.

"That was four months ago."

"I know."

"You've been pregnant for four months, and you didn't tell me?"

"Well, sometimes I get a little skittish! And with all of the stress of eloping and traveling…I wanted to be sure before I told you."

"Four months?" He made it a question.

"Okay, so I was nervous. But I'm sorry. This is really big Erik, for both of us."

"I know." He chuckled, leaning back against the headboard. He closed his eyes, letting the information process. A baby. He was going to be a father.

"Are you mad?"

"Mad' doesn't seem like the right word." He said, looking at her. Suddenly, he burst into laughter, hugging her.

"Kerri, why in God's name would I be angry?"

"Tears welled up in her eyes. Thank God.

"I didn't tell you…"

"Kerri…" He looked at her, smiling. "I am going to be a father! Waiting a little while before you told me hardly merits my anger."

He picked her up, spinning her around. She laughed, kissing him.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

Marie and Kerri were putting away clothes later that afternoon while Erik meditated.

"Oh my God, Delia, she came in twice! I can understand the fact that servants are supposed to be invisible, but really."

"If she had done it again, I might have had to strangle her." Erik said, eyes closed, sitting in the lotus position on a prayer rug.

"What happened to 'ahimsa'? No harm to any creature?"

Erik opened his eyes slowly, looking at Delia in almost a cat-like manner. In the low light, his pupils were dilated.

"No one's perfect."

"Don't do that, I told you!" She threw something at him to make him look away. He laughed.

"Let's fire her." Erik suggested.

"Oh, we don't have to be that harsh." Kerri scolded.

"Of course we do! Isn't that one of the basic principles or something? Neither seen nor heard?"

"That's children, dear." Delia corrected him.

"I think what he is trying to say is that if she can't handle something as basic as knocking, how can we trust her with other tasks?"

"Exactly. Delia, go fire her."

"She doesn't work for me, and I don't work for you. That's your job."

He nodded.

"Yes, but I am appointing you the Head of Staff. Now go fire her."

"You can't appoint me head of anything unless you pay me."

"It's an honorary title. Like a devotee."

"To who? You?" Delia snorted.

"I wouldn't consider Delia a devotee of anything."

"Oh, fine then. Kerri, you fire her."

"It was your suggestion, Erik."

"I can kill people, torture, and otherwise frighten the hell out of anyone. But something as banal as firing someone? That is way too common."

Delia made a face.

"What a high horse _he_ sits on."

"I think we'll have to kick him off."

Kerri sat in front of him, touching her knees to his.

"You're invading my personal space."

"I'm your wife. That phrase means nothing to me."

"You'll throw off my chi."

"I thought chi was Chinese?"

"Karma, what ever."

"Are you saying I distract you?" She smiled, inching closer.

"Yes, actually."

"Did you hear that, Delia? A _commoner_ distracts the great Phantom of the Opera."

"You are anything but common, Kerri." Erik shook his head.

"Thank you." She got up in one smooth motion, and it reminded Erik of the way Christine moved.

"I think I'm going to look around some more. It's very possible I will get lost, so if I am not back by seven, you might want to send out a search party.

"You're exaggerating." Erik scoffed.

"I am not. I have a terrible sense of direction."

She left the room, leaving Delia to finish her own unpacking.

"Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into?"

"How do you mean?"

"Erik, Kerri is seventeen. She is very mature for her age, I will give you that. But she is just coming into her own. And if you thought Jean-Luc was bad…"

She made an apprehensive face.

"What are you saying exactly?"

"That at some point, you're going to need more than meditation to deal with her."

"I've dealt with many different kinds of people, Delia."

"And I am not saying you haven't. But when Christian died, she went through some hard times of her own. She was depressed, she never ate, and she stayed out all night drinking. She would have these fits, where she would just destroy everything in sight."

"So you're telling me I married a sociopath."

"No, I'm just telling you that it takes more than seven months to recover from something like that. And the worst is yet to come, now that she's pregnant."

"She told you?"

Delia laughed. "I've had three children, and delivered countless others. I knew she was pregnant before she did."

"Well, it would have been nice for you to tell me that." Erik retorted.

"And ruin all of the fun?"


	2. Chapter 2

Kerri couldn't believe how amazing the house was. The rear of the house opened right on to the beach. She could smell the salt from her spot in the hallway. She wandered aimlessly from room to room, marveling at the architecture and wondering if Erik had built it all. She couldn't fathom why anyone would want to kill a man who could do this.

Finally, she just fell onto the nearest bed, exhausted. She had no idea what time it was, although is she looked, she would surely find a clock. It felt like she had been exploring for hours.

There was a mirror above the bed that extended the entire length of the mattress. It was slightly odd starting at herself staring at herself lying on a bed. She was hungry, but she knew that if she ate she would just throw it back up. She kept thinking she would just go back to the music, lie on a couch, and listen to records. However, for some reason, her body did not respond. So she just laid there, because the bed really was quite comfortable. She closed her eyes after growing tired of stating at her reflection.

Naturally, sleep crept up on her fast. She had extremely interesting dreams, ranging from children throwing pineapples at her, to Raoul and Erik having a conversation about Christine's progress. Weird, right?

She started awake after one of the fruit slices hit her face, although upon awaking, she realized it was her own hand.

She moaned, rolling on to her side. Through a window, she saw that it was dark outside, and she was guessed it was past seven. Her head was heavy as she made her way down to the kitchen, twice loosing her balance on level ground. She poured herself some water and tried to decide if she even wanted to attempt eating. She guessed that Erik hadn't, because unless she made him, he sufficed on coffee and writing.

In the end, her lingering stomachache won out, and she headed back in the direction of her bedroom. Delia was reading on her couch, and Erik was nowhere to be found.

"Don't you have your own room to invade?" Kerri asked.

"I haven't found one yet." She shrugged. "I presume you were sleeping?"

The girl nodded. "I had the strangest dreams." She paused.

"Do I smell pineapple?"

Delia laughed. "No, I don't think so. Why?"

Kerri shook her head. "Never mind. It's too complicated. Where's Erik?"

"Off, somewhere. He might be on the terrace."

"Which is where?"

"Out on the beach. It's cool, so take something."

Kerri scoffed at the remark, but took her shawl any way.

The moon was full and low in the sky. It cast a bluish gray light over everything, and if he hadn't been for the orange light of the fire, she might not have seen her husband.

He was sitting on the edge of a wooden platform, most likely meant for parties. The waves crashed on the shore methodically. He was thinking, because not only did he have a frustrated expression, but he stared at the fire with a glaze over his eyes, not really focusing on it.

"May I?" She crossed her arms for warmth as the breeze caught her skirt. He blinked, his head snapping in her direction. She assumed he hadn't heard her approach. He smiled half heartedly, nodding.

"You were thinking." She said, curling up into a ball as much as her posture would allow.

"Yes."

"What about?"

He gave her a look that said it was none of her business.

"Alright, sorry." She held her hands up. There was a moment of silence between them that stretched into a few minutes.

"I was actually thinking of Nadir." Erik finally spoke.

"And…"

"When he brought me to the Opera House, he swore that if I ever killed like I had in Mazaderen, he would personally end my life."

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, really. I was just thinking of what he would say if he could see me now."

"Do you think he would be surprised at where you are?"

Erik nodded. "Oh yes. Never in a thousand years could either of us have imagined that I would be married, sitting on a beach, thinking about you being pregnant."

"Are you scared?"

"Of being a father?" He glanced at her. She nodded.

"Only that I'll screw up in some way."

"Erik, it doesn't have to be perfect."

"I know that. But Kerri, I _want_ it to be perfect. Nothing in my life has ever been right or loving or happy. Now I have all three, and I don't know what to do with myself."

"Well, we're going to have to work on a whole bunch of things, including your absolute refusal to believe anything happens to you."

He snorted, kicking a piece of wood farther into the fire.

"It's not that I _refuse_ to believe it, I just have a hard time doing so. Wouldn't you? It's a lot to take in in only a few months."

"Erik, I know that. I'm the one who has this tiny life growing inside of me. I can't control it, and I am scared out of my mind. I have no idea how I'm going to tell my family, or if I will at all."

"Are you regretting telling me?"

"No. It's not that I ever regret saying things, but you have to realize that my mother will go insane, and Raoul…"

"Will kill me, as always."

Kerri giggled.

"I was actually going to say that I don't know how he'll react. He tries to ignore you, and most of the time fails miserably."

"But, do you think that us being away from him will change anything?"

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say." She shrugged. "At least he won't be able to act on his anger."

Erik smiled, taking her hands in between his.

"You're cold. You should go inside."

"Come with me."

"No, I think I'll stay out here for a bit longer."

He watched her leave, flexing his left hand. It was tingling like it was numb, all the way up to his shoulder. It was a strange feeling, but it was fleeting. In the distance, sharks circled something in the water. In a way, Erik saw it as a sign, a metaphor of his life. At this point, whether he was being circled, or whether he was circling, he did not know. But then, he didn't really care.


	3. Chapter 3

A few weeks passed, and Kerri fell prey to the raging hormones in her body. She was chipper and flamboyant. She even cut her hair, so her once waist length locks now fell short of her shoulders. Her belly was a small lump, and sometimes she though she felt it move, but it was probably her imagination.

One day, she received a rather thick envelope from Raoul. She could only imagine what it contained. She had written him a week ago, in it telling he was pregnant. At the time, she had hoped, at the very most, write angry letters.

To her surprise however, there was a letter to Erik enclosed with her own. Erik's was the thicker, and although she knew a piece of paper wasn't life threatening, the thing still caused her imagination to run wild.

"Erik, letter for you." She dropped it in front of him as he was writing. Today, they were stationed in the library. Kerri had been trying to burn every title of every book into her brain. Erik had made a guess that there were at least one thousand texts, some in different languages. It made little difference to Kerri, although she was now more concerned with their mail. Her husbands, of course, more than her own, because she desperately wanted to know what her brother had to say that made it so thick.

When Erik paled considerably, she began to worry.

"Kerri, would your brother spend ridiculous amounts of money in an attempt to kill me?" He swallowed hard, raising his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" She straightened in her chair.

He unfolded the rest of the letter, flipping through the pages. His jaw slowly dropped. He finally held out the whole thing for Kerri to take, at a loss for words.

"Erik!" She gasped. "These are..."

"The papers for the opera house, I know." He sighed. He wasn't sure who was insane; himself for dreaming this, or the Vicomte for giving it to him. The accompanying letter had explained it all.

"He made me co-manager!" She exclaimed, grabbing her own letter and tearing it open.

_Kerri,_

_Although we cannot change our past, as humans, we can affect our future. _

_As you have probably guessed, our family is still the patron of the opera house. After careful consideration, we (Christine and I) decided to fix it up, and bring back some of the original grandeur. Tell Erik not to worry, most of the damage was superficial. None the less, we brought in the best architects and renovation teams we could find._

_This brings me to my next point. The opera house is yours. It deserves the best, and as much as I hate admitting it, Erik is the best. Do with it what you wish. I hope you can forgive me for being less than hospitable, even though, given the unique circumstances, I feel that I had every right to try and protect you. I do hope to see you soon._

_All my love,_

Raoul

"He didn't even comment on me being pregnant." She scoffed. Sometimes no acknowledgement was worse than long paragraphs and exclamation points.

"He had no problem doing so in _my_ letter." Erik held up three pages of neat hand writing.

"Well what do they say?"

"Other than dozens of oaths and threats on my life if I hurt you, I believe he wished us well, and congratulated me. It might be sarcasm."

"No, Raoul isn't cheeky." Kerri relaxed in her armchair, crossing her ankles and draping them over an ottoman.

"What are we going to do?" She sighed, rubbing her eyelids. For all they knew, Raoul could have informed her parents, and this could all have been some grandeur plot to get her to come home.

"Return to Paris, I suppose. Although I'm sure that's the last place you want to go."

"I would love to go home, don't tell yourself otherwise. I'm just afraid of what will happen once we get there."

"Worst case scenario: I'm arrested for kidnapping, rape, murder, and arson, your mother forces you to marry the Duke, and the baby is stillborn."

She stared at him. "You know _just_ what to say, don't you?"

"You can't tell me you weren't thinking the same thing."

He was right. He was always right. She hated being predictable to the point of telepathy.

"Are you sure those papers are authentic?" She finally asked.

"Positive. Both Armand's and Firmin's signatures are here, and Raoul's." He suddenly chuckled.

"What?"

"The fool sent me the manual. _My_ manual."

"Raoul did say we could sell it…"

"No!" Erik glared at her as if she were insane.

"Well we can't very well run it from here! We're almost clear across the country."

"So then we move."

"Where? To Paris? My parents will hunt us down like game."

"We'll go to Versailles then. It's close enough that we can see the shows without inconveniencing ourselves, but it's not Paris."

"Versailles is still well-known."

"Kerri, you're perpetuating this feud between you and your parents. Eventually, you'll have to face them."

"I know that. But I don't want it to have to be because my mother wants to have you arrested for some ridiculous thing."

Erik shrugged.

"It's going to take more than a few idiotic policemen and an angry housewife to bring me down."

"Then I guess we're going to Paris."


	4. Chapter 4

"Kerri, I want to show you something before we leave." Erik blindfolded her.

"What is it?"

"Just follow me."

He pulled her through the house, which was now filled with crates and boxes of all sizes. Although they didn't have a house yet in Versailles, they had packed up everything, because it was likely that they would not return.

They were now walking on sand. The breeze was wet and chilly. Erik forced her to face what she thought might be north. But as she had told him before, her sense of direction was terrible.

When he removed the mask, she gasped.

The sun was setting, and it was the single most amazing thing she'd ever seen. The colors were vibrant and expressive. The ocean surface reflected it back, making the light doubly impressive.

"Why would you show me something like this and then ask me to leave?"

"So you'll want to come back." He murmured, pulling her back towards the carriage. They weren't taking much of anything, and Delia and Marie were staying behind to keep everything in order.

She realized that this would be the first time they had ever been alone together. Of course, they'd been alone before, that's how they had spent most of their days after meeting, but it had never been in complete solitude. Delia and Marie had always been wandering in and out of the rooms, or, as of recently, annoying maids tried to wait on her hand and foot. It wasn't that being alone scared her, it simply felt…different.

They would ride through the night, and hopefully make Paris by the following evening. It was a big undertaking, but Erik was always presumptuous.

It somehow was darker in the open air than in the forest, Kerri found out, and the strangeness of it perplexed her.

The night progressed slowly, and Kerri found herself lulled in to a stupor by the sound of the wheels and the movement of their vehicle. She was nestled in Erik's shoulder because he radiated warmth, and even though she was dressed warmly, Kerri still found herself shivering. She had already gained a good amount of weight although she wasn't vain enough to consider herself fat. She had no idea, however, why she would be seven pounds heavier and cold in the middle of June.

"Kerri, you're burning up." Erik commented, placing his hand on her forehead.

"Am I?" Because I feel cold."

He removed his coat, a light dinner jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"Are you sick?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I'm just cold." Although, if she was sick, that would certainly explain the weird pineapple dreams she had been having. She was warmer now, but only a little. Erik looked worried.

"Erik, I'm fine. It's just chills." She assured him, but it wasn't very convincing."

"Forgive me if I'm concerned about the health of the woman carrying my child."

"Well stop looking so grim, at least. It's a fever, nothing more."

"People die all of the time from fevers."

"Yes, old people, and people with poor immune systems, and people who are homeless."

"That is not true. You are none of those, and the fever can still cook your brain."

Kerri groaned. "Just let me sleep. Sleep breaks fevers."

So Erik shut up and let her sleep. She suddenly seemed so tiny with her short hair around her ears and the jacket swallowing her shoulders. He thought this might have been what she looked like as a child, although something told him that the spirit she possessed had taken hold of her at an early age.

Erik had only closed his eyes for a moment. That's why it surprised him to see sunlight creeping in from beneath the window curtains. He hadn't remembered falling asleep, and wondered how long he had fallen asleep for. If Kerri had been awake, it had only been for a little while, because she was in the exact same position. Her fever had broken, and it seemed that she had stopped having whatever dreams plagued her.

When he finally managed to move her enough so that he could look out the window, he found himself starting at a typical small town layout. Houses spread apart to allow for farming and livestock, and ahead of them, a cluster of buildings that most likely served as its epicenter.

The carriage slowed and stopped in front of a bakery the scent of freshly baked bread wafting towards his nostrils.

"Sir, we're stopping to feed and water the horses. May I suggest that Kerri eat something?" The driver informed Erik through the now open window. Erik nodded, gently rousing her.

"Kerri…"He whispered, removing the jacket from around her. She stirred, but didn't wake up."

"Kerri, wake up. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry." She mumbled, squinting her eyes shut. "And give me back that coat."

"You still need to eat something. I'm not asking for a five course meal."

"Can't we wait until e get to Paris?" Kerri was trying desperately to cling to sleep.

"How long until we reach Paris?" Erik asked the coachman.

"Six hours, maybe longer."

"No, we can't wait until Paris." He declared. She moaned, opening her eyes.

"Erik…"She whined.

"Kerri…" He returned. She scoffed, fixing her dress and sitting up.

"Fine. But if I turn into some heifer that can't play with her children, I'm placing the blame solely on you."

"Because a husband making his pregnant wife eat is _such_ a heinous crime." He replied dryly as she got out of the carriage and walked into the bakery. Five minutes later, she emerged with a croissant glazed with honey, and a bag, which she handed to Erik.

"What's this?"

"Breakfast."

"I'm not hungry." He shrugged.

"Oh no. You're not getting off on that line. If I have to eat, so do you."

"I am not five months pregnant." He chided.

"You're right, but you're not going to die of malnutrition either, so eat."

He smiled at her opposition, and chose to eat the pastry versus argue more.

"Let's take a walk." Erik suggested. Kerri shook her head.

"No. I'm still tired."

"Oh, come on. It's a fairly straight road; not even you could get lost."

Kerri couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't like Erik to be blatantly funny; maybe he was just teasing her.

"Well, come on then." She started walking along the side of the road, letting Erik follow.

The town had a quiet murmur to it, like a beehive. You knew things were happening, even if you couldn't see them.

A gang of boys was playing ball in the street ahead, while a mother and daughter washed laundry. One of the boys kicked the ball for a goal, and missed, so that the ball was now headed straight for the couple. Erik caught it, and one of the boys ran over to retrieve it.

"Sorry, sir. May we have out ball back?"

"You're playing football?" Kerri asked. The boy nodded. He wasn't older than twelve.

"You're short a player."

"Well, my friend Marc is sick, so we had to forfeit our goal keeper."

"Why can't she play?" Kerri pointed to the little girl, who looked unhappy with washing clothes.

"She's a girl!"

"Who says girls can't play football?" Kerri put her hands on her hips.

"Everyone." The boy scoffed.

"Oh yeah?" Kerri raised her eyebrows and took the ball from Erik, placing it on the ground in front of her. She took a few steps back, and then kicked. The ball flew through the air, landing on the ground and rolling into the goal posts. Kerri smiled and continued on her way. As she passed, the little girl stared in amazement, while the mother scowled. Kerri winked at the girl, but ignored the older woman.

"So am I to understand that along with riding a horse like a man, sword fighting, and arguing better than most lawyers, you play football?" Erik asked once they had cleared the scene.

"I've never touched a ball in my life; that was a lucky kick."

"And what would have happened if you had not made a goal?"

"I would have proved him right and made an ass of myself."

Erik kissed her head, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"You are truly amazing."


	5. Chapter 5

"What about names?" Erik asked as Kerri fidgeted around the compartment, trying to find a comfortable spot.

"What about them?"

"Well, it would be nice to have a few in mind."

She finally settled for lying across the bench across from Erik on her side and propping her head up on her hand.

"For a boy or a girl?"

"For a girl."

"Charlotte. Or maybe Rose."

"Why those names?"

She shrugged. "I just like them. What about you?"

"For a girl?"

She nodded.

"Thea or Mahala."

"Mahala? What does that mean?" Kerri grinned; she had always taken a liking to anything that had an exotic ring to it.

"Powerful, in Arabic."

"Well, how about boy's names?" Kerri was now on her back, staring at the ceiling.

"Julien."

"Julien? I think I have a dead uncle named Julien."

"Well, we can keep it in the family then." Erik gazed out the window, leaning forward.

"We're here."

Kerri sat up to look. The house was nice, made out of brick. There was a gigantic fountain at the center of the cul-de-sac, an angel playing the harp. Raoul emerged, and Kerri suspected he had been waiting by one of the grand windows that flanked the door.

His hair was longer, but other than that, he looked the same. Kerri jumped out before the horses had stopped moving.

"Kerri!" Raoul was in half a state of shock Her hair was shorter, way shorter. She was smiling, virtually glowing. She had gained a little bit of weight, but she was still on the skinny side. He had expected to see her as big as Christine (who was due next month) but she barely looked out of her first trimester.

She hugged him tightly, asking how he was, and how Christine, and wow, the house was was big.

"Kerri, slow down." Raoul laughed.

"I'm sorry." She bit her lip to keep from grinning, but a smile peeked through anyway.

"Tell me about your trip." Raoul nodded at Erik, taking a suitcase from his hand.

"It was hot. Really hot. But the cruise from Italy to Spain was amazing. I've never seen so much blue in my life!"

"Well, you look fabulous. I wish Christine was as thrilled to be pregnant. You don't even look it."

"She eats like she's pregnant." Erik snorted. Kerri hit his arm.

"Just because I'm not an anorexic like you does not mean you get to make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you! It's an observation, you eat like you're pregnant."

"Do you see what _I_ have to deal with?" Kerri looked at Raoul as they walked inside. Erik rolled his eyes.

The house was as he expected; tastefully decorated, lots of artwork on the walls, sculptures in corners next to vases full of flowers. Expensive furniture and tapestries in every room. A typical upper class home.

"I haven't told mother you're staying with us, but she's coming over for dinner on Saturday. So unless you want to turn my house in to a war zone, I would recommend visiting _before_ then."

"She should know it's her fault I'm not at home in the first place."

"You need to stop hating her. I understand that she's tried to force you into a lot of things, but she is still your mother."

"Raoul, you will never understand what the last four years has been like. She was planning my wedding at the age of 12. Do you know what that does to a girl? She went easy on you because you were a boy; everything was already set for you. You should be thankful you're not female."

"Trust me, I am." He opened a bedroom door for them.

"Dinner is in a half an hour, so make yourselves comfortable, but not too comfortable." He began to leave, but stopped.

"And if Christine comes in here, ignore her."

Kerri laid down on the bed, happy to have a mattress to sleep on, but sad that is was not her own.

"What are you so depressed about?" Erik stood over Kerri, who was on her side again, hugging a pillow.

"I'm just tired."

"Well, maybe if you didn't argue with me about everything, you wouldn't be tired."

Kerri smiled.

"Well next time, you can get pregnant."

Erik laid down next to her.

"I think I will pass on that opportunity, thank you."

Kerri suddenly gasped, putting her hand on her belly.

"What?" Erik sat up.

"Give me your hand." She held out her hand, waving it anxiously.

"What's wrong?"

"Just give me your god damn hand!" She exclaimed, laughing.

Kerri took his arm, wrapping it around her.

"Put your hand right there."

"What am I feeling for?"

"Just wait a minute."

There. Movement. A kick? The couple exchanged glances.

"Did you feel it?" Kerri whispered, although she had no idea why the circumstance called for it.

"Yeah."

"Kerri giggled. "This is so amazing."

Erik kissed her neck, lacing their fingers together.

"You are amazing."

"Thank you."

"We should probably get up."

"I'm too tired."

"You're always tired."

"Because I argue, remember?" Kerri smiled, closing her eyes.

"Maybe if I could sleep, I wouldn't be tired."

"But you sleep all of the time."

"Well maybe I need to sleep _more_."

Erik relaxed against her back, drawing circles on her hand with his thumb. She scooted up against him, using Erik as a human blanket. He slipped his knee between hers, so now they were touching pretty much everywhere the clothing allowed. Kerri felt safe. She always felt safe when Erik held her. Maybe it was the fact that he had killed people with his bare hands for a good portion of his life. Or it could have simply been the strength he used to keep her pressed against him. She wasn't tired enough to go to sleep, but she wasn't alert enough to do anything other than think. Think about her mother, think about the baby. Think about what was going to happen tomorrow, and how they were going to manage an understaffed opera house, a new home, and a new baby all at the same time.

All she could do was think.


	6. Chapter 6

Kerri hadn't even realized she had dozed off until she woke up. Dinner had been eventful, in the respect that everything had gone smoothly. Almost too smooth. Kerri knew enough to trust her intuition, and it said that something was up in the house. A clock on the wall said it was eleven forty eight. Erik's arm was still draped over her stomach, his knee still wedged between hers. She moved slowly, both because Erik was a borderline insomniac and needed sleep, and because she learned it was the best way to get up.

Somehow she knew where the kitchen was from her bedroom. She didn't know what she wanted to eat, but she knew she was hungry. Surprisingly, Christine was sitting at the center counter, eating ice cream.

"You're up." She sounded surprised.

"So are you." Kerri sat across from her. She looked older, much older than the last time they had met. Her belly was big, and it looked like it hurt.

"I thought you would be sleeping." Christine sounded sad.

"No; I hardly ever sleep at night." Kerri took a chunk of vanilla out of the bowl with a nearby spoon.

"What about you?"

"I got hungry." She shrugged.

There was a moment of silence between girls.

"How do you do it?" Christine asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Erik are so….happy. Or at least you seem that way." Christine sighed.

"I don't know how to answer that. We just understand each other, I guess."

"God, what did I get myself in to?" Christine moaned, putting her head in her hands.

"Is something wrong?"

"No…it's just….oh, I don't know! First, Raoul hates Erik. I can understand that. It's logical. Then he found you and him together, and he wanted to kill him. Again, I could understand that. He tried to let you two go, but he couldn't do it. So he tried breaking you two up. He felt guilty, but he was trying to do the best thing for you. Then when we moved and you ran away, he just gave up completely. When he got your letter, he was so excited; he thought you were dead! And he went out and bought the Opera House and put it in Erik's name, which made no sense. And now here the two of you are, staying in our house, and Raoul actually used Erik's _name_."

"I'll admit I was surprised when I got his letter. But is it really so bad?"

"No! I mean, I think it's wonderful that the two of you are here, and Erik finally has something good in his life, but Raoul is…he's different."

"What do you mean? He's a little chipper, but generally the same."

Christine snorted. "Chipper is hardly the end of it. He is obsessed with his work, which, by the way, up until last month, was repairing the Opera House. And he won't touch me with a yard stick."

Kerri held up her hands.

"Okay, that's enough, stop right there. Raoul is my brother, and I do _not_ want to know. In fact, it would be preferable to let me believe he is completely abstinent."

Christine shook her head. "I'm sorry. I just have no one to talk to…"

"Have you tried talking with Raoul?"

The older girl laughed. "What would I say?"

"Exactly what you're telling me."

"Oh, I could never do that! It's way too embarrassing."

"Well, I can't do a damn thing about it. I have my own problems to deal with. If you really want to work it out, you'll find a way to talk with him."

"Well how do you do it? You and Erik don't seem like the fighting type."

Kerri laughed.

"Oh, we've been angry with each other, trust me. We fight all of the time. But that's why we understand each other. Even if a discussion ends in a fight, we've still talked about it." She conveniently left out the part where the arguments frequently turned in to sex.

"What are you girls talking about at one o' clock in the morning?" Raoul stood in the doorway, robed with his arms crossed.

"The usual girl stuff. Nothing you should worry about." Kerri sighed.

"I've never known you to be 'usual'."

Kerri shrugged, rising from her seat.

"Marriage changes a girl." She kissed his cheek, turning back to Christine.

"Do you really want to know how I do it?"

Christine nodded.

"When I really want something, I play it out in my head like I want it to turn out. Then I make it happen."

Raoul turned to Christine, giving her a questioning glance.

"What does _that_ mean?"

"Nothing dear." Christine gave him a small smile, also rising to leave.

"Are you coming to bed?" She asked after leaving him standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, in a minute." He nodded absentmindedly. She did not wait for him.

Kerri did not go to bed right away. She went back to her room, turned on a lamp, and read. After about an hour, the sugar rush from the ice cream wore off, and she became extremely tired. She had slept for only a few hours previously, and now it had caught up to her. She was a sleep before her head hit the pillow.

"Kerri, come on, wake up." Erik was already dressed and ready to go as he gently nuzzled her awake.

"It's too early." She moaned.

"Well, that's not my fault."

"What are you doing up."

"Well, if we are going to find a house in Versailles, we'll have to get moving." Erik stood over her drinking a cup of coffee as she rolled.

"Raoul gave me the name of a realtor who does business there."

"You had a _conversation_ with Raoul?" Kerri sat up. Erik nodded.

"Apparently he wants to make nice with us now."

He handed her a cup of tea.

"Drink it, you'll feel better."

She shook her head, slightly dazed.

"This has been a weird week."

"Indeed." He paused, fingering the blanket.

"Are you going to visit your parents?"

Kerri sighed. It was too early in the day to be tackling difficult tasks.

"I don't know. If I go now, she'll scream at me. If I wait until Saturday, she'll scream at me."

"Well, the question is where would she be less likely to physically attack you?"

"A police station." Kerri snorted. "I don't want to talk about this stuff right now. Can we please just concentrate on finding a place to live?"

She finally got up off the bed and tried to decide what she wanted to wear. It was hot out, so anything with layers under it was out of the question.

She finally decided on a deep but vibrant green skirt and a white blouse. The green in the skirt brought out the green in her eyes and made her pale skin seem almost translucent. She was wearing black silk slippers that she had bought at a market in Venice.

"You look nice." She smiled, jumping as the baby kicked.

"Do you want anything to eat?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Erik shook his head.

"Alright then. Let's go down to the kitchen."

"You know where the kitchen is?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Christine and I had a conversation last night."

"You talked to Christine?" He exclaimed in mock surprise.

"Yes; this house is just full of surprises."

"Next thing you know, we'll be having twins."

Kerri followed him down the corridor, sliding down the banister versus walking.

"Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because twins mean that there are two of them. And we will have out hands full with one as it is."

"What about me? I 'm going to have my hands full with you, too."

Kerri stopped in front of the door, glaring at him. He smiled tauntingly, pushing the door open behind her.

There were servants and cooks bustling around the room, but no one looked when they entered.

"You'd think they were feeding an army."

"They probably are." Kerri took a croissant as it passed by on a waiters shoulder.

Suddenly, a crazed cook started screaming at them in what sounded like German. Erik shouted back, and the cook shut up, staring at him in awe. He said something else, pointing to a stove. Still in shock, the man just nodded and walked off.

"What'd you say to him?" Kerri watched him walk away, following her husband.

"That I wanted to cook. And to please stop shouting." He paused, taking eggs from a basket.

"I think he was surprised that I spoke German."

"I was surprised you spoke German." Kerri added, watching him break the eggs into a bowl.

"I didn't know you could cook either."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Kerri shrugged.

"Well, you never eat any way, so one would assume that you don't know how to cook."

He frowned.

"I eat."

"Not regularly."

"That isn't the point. I can cook quite well."

Kerri hoisted herself up onto the counter.

"We'll see."

He handed her a green pepper and a knife.

"Chop this up."

She smiled, making a face at having to work.

"No, no." Erik shook his head, standing behind her and putting his hand over hers.

"Chop at an angle, not straight down." He moved her hand the correct way.

"Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't. It's easier for you."

"What are you two doing?" Christine stood behind the couple. Erik glanced behind him, not hesitating.

"Making omelets." Kerri smiled. "Do you want one?"

She shook her head.

"No, thank you."

"You're as bad as Kerri." Erik scoffed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"She never eats."

"Look who's talking!" Kerri nudged him.

"I eat.

"So do I!"

"You don't eat _right_."

Kerri looked at Christine mouthing 'I told you'. Christine smiled, sitting on a nearby stool.

"I had something earlier."

"Ice cream at one o'clock in the morning hardly counts."

Christine was shocked.

"How did you know that?"

Erik turned to face her. She gave a quiet gasp. He looked _good_.

"I know everything."

"Stop being arrogant." Kerri slapped his arm, breaking their momentary gaze.

"Are you sure you don't want something?" Erik turned back to the stove, pouring the egg in to a pan.

"I'll be alright."

"So, how have you been? We didn't really get to talk last night." Kerri sat next to Christine, swinging her feet.

"Tired. Hungry. Sore. My ankles are huge."

"Do you think you'll dance again?"

"I don't know. Not any time soon."

"What about sing? God knows we need a soprano." Erik sighed.

"Why not use Carlotta."

"Erik gave her an apprehensive look. She laughed.

"I'm sorry I asked." She bit her lip in thought.

"I don't know. I might sing. I would have to talk to Raoul."

"About what? He's not your employer, he's your husband. It's not his decision."

"It would be nice to have his consent."

"Do you do anything without asking him first?"

Christine straighted. "Excuse me?"

"You're not a child, Christine. You don't need his permission."

"I know that. But it would be nice to have his support."

"If he doesn't support your dream, why did you marry him?"

"You're impossible." Christine sighed.

"It doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't have to." Christine shook her head.

"_Everything_ has to be logical with him." Kerri groaned. She finished the omelet Erik had set before her and grabbed a banana from the fruit basket.

"I'm wandering around. Find me when you're ready to leave." She walked off. Christine watched her go, thinking of how much better she looked than five months ago.

"Where are you going?" She rested her chin in her hand, watching Erik eat.

"House hunting." He sighed.

"You sound so thrilled."

"So how have you been doing? You look pale." He made eye contact with her, and the intensity of his gaze still set her back.

"I haven't been sleeping well recently."

"Kerri doesn't sleep at all and she doesn't strike me as sickly."

"I've been under a lot a lot of stress, okay?" Christine snapped.

"I'm sorry I offended you."

"Well, stop interrogating me."

"Whether you choose to accept it or not, I still care for you. And you should not be so troubled."

"I doubt Kerri would be thrilled to hear you say that."

"I love Kerri, and she knows that. She also knows that she cannot change my feelings for you." He rose to leave, stopping next to her.

"Or your feelings for me."

"I feel nothing for you." She said slowly.

"Then why are you trembling?"

She waited until the door had closed behind him to sob.


	7. Chapter 7

"Kerri, you haven't even been inside the office yet."

"I don't care. I don't like it."

Kerri stood at the bottom of the steps, staring up at the reality building. Her arms were crossed, and it was obvious she was going to be stubborn.

"What don't you like about it?"

"It's too big."

"It's an office!"

"It looks stuck up."

"A building cannot be stuck up."

Kerri made a face. "You know what I mean."

"Just come inside with me." Erik pulled on Kerri's hand.

"Why? I don't know anything about architecture or design."

"To keep me company."

He pulled her through the doors, keeping her hand firmly in his. She begrudgingly followed, at least appreciating the decorative taste.

Erik approached the secretary's desk, which was the only thing in the entry way. The man looked up from what he was doing like it was the most important thing in the world.

"May I help you?" He sighed impatiently.

"We're here to see Monsieur O'Neal?"

The man rolled his eyes.

"Follow me please."

The secretary led them down a long hallway to a pair of oak doors.

The office was lavishly decorated with oriental rugs and exquisite paintings. There were models of all sorts of buildings and houses.

The realtor himself was modestly dressed, at least in comparison to his work place.

"Ah, _bonjour_ to you both! I trust that you are Monsieur and Madame Delacroix?"

He shook Erik's hands, and Kissed Kerri's. She resisted the urge to pull away.

"So, you are looking for a house, I presume?"

"Our second, actually. Hopefully something in Versailles."

"Ah, yes, Versailles. Wonderful city. Beautiful city. Hardly compares to Paris in culture, but wonderful to look at. How big are you asking?"

"No more than 150, did you say?" Erik looked at Kerri, who nodded.

"Ah, on the smaller side. Lovely. Everyone who moves there wants big! Big like the royal palace. We don't get a lot of requests for smaller lots."

"Well, actually, we were hoping what the house lacked in size it made up for in acreage."

Kerri crossed her ankles, fidgeting with her hands. She wanted to move!

"Acreage, you say? Well, that will be difficult. What for, if I may I ask?"

"I like to ride."

The realtor seemed to be deeply amused by this statement. Erik squeezed her leg and gave her as look as if to say 'let me talk'.

"Horses! Well this does put a damper on things. Animals, especially large ones, never do well in the city."

"Well we don't have to be neighbors with the palace. But if at all possible, a commute of less than an hour to Paris would be wonderful."

"Well, if you'll be working in the city, I'd be more than happy to find you suitable property here."

Erik looked at Kerri, shrugging with his eyes.

"We have family in Versailles, and we would prefer to stay there."

The realtor shrugged.

"Alright, I'll see what we can find in our records. Excuse me for one moment."

The man left, and Kerri pursed her lips.

"Would you like to say something, Kerri?" Erik prompted.

"He's stuck up."

"Jesus woman, you are determined to be right, aren't you?"

"No. He is stuck up. And so is his secretary."

"Do you want to stop by the Opera House today?" Erik sighed, changing the subject.

"Why?"

"I need to pick up some things."

"Sure, I guess. I've never really been there without throngs of other people."

"Nothing's going to get you, I promise." He teased, and he laughed as Kerri hit him playfully.

Monsieur O'Neal returned carrying a thick leather bound notebook.

"We have four properties listed; all of them have more than ten acres. Take a look at them, decide which ones you are interested in. We can plan to meet sometime next week to view them…."

"Are you free tomorrow?" Erik looked up from the book.

"Well, yes, but usually…"

"We'd like to view these two. The ones on Route de Mal and Rue de Paris." Erik turned the book around and pointed appropriately.

« You don't need more time to make a decision ? »

"Do you like them?" Erik turned to Kerri.

"Sure." Both properties were pretty in picture and on paper, so it made sense in Kerri's mind to see them in person.

"No." Erik shook his head.

"Well then, when is an appropriate time for us to meet? I am free until two in the afternoon."

"Eleven would be fine. That should give us enough time to view both properties."

Monsieur O'Neal nodded, although Kerri suspected he was a little unhappy with their urgency.

"We can view the plot on Rue de Paris first, since it is closer."

Erik stood after Kerri, who was grateful she could move her feet. The men shook hands, and Kerri all but high-tailed out into the open air.


	8. Chapter 8

Kerri couldn't help but grin at the place. It was old, the vines meant for decoration had taken over, and it was not at all like the picture. She loved it.

"Have I ever told you I despise liars?" Erik mused.

"Well no wonder you have such low self-esteem." Kerri commented, leaving the carriage side to explore.

"This looks nothing like the pictures. I doubt any one has been here in two years."

"Does it matter?" Kerri questioned? "It's gorgeous."

"What are you talking about? Its' a slum."

Kerri pursed her lips. "Oh, stop being so negative. I think it's charming."

"Kerri, I think you should sit down. All the blood is going from your head to your belly." Kerri groaned, running to Erik and wrapping her hands around his neck.

"Erik, come on. Please? Look at it. Really look at it. This house is perfect for us."

"This house is a safety hazard."

"Well then, you can fix it. After all, you are the architectural genius in the family."

Erik rolled his eyes.

"We'll have enough on our plates with the Opera House."

Kerri laid her head on his chest for a moment.

"Alright, I'll make you a deal. If the interior's a mess, we'll move on. But if it's in good shape, you buy it."

"Kerri, that would still…"

"Erik, please?" She gave him her puppy dog pout. He groaned.

"No."

"_Please_?"

"I hate it when you do this."

"You only hate it because it works."

She had a point.

"If I say yes, you'll get the house, but if I say no you'll hat em."

"I won't hate you, but I'll be very, _very_ disappointed."

"Like there's a difference." He sighed. "Okay, we have a deal."

She smiled, kissing him.

"Thank you." Now where the hell is this O'Neal guy?"

"We're early. You wanted to have a look around, remember?"

"Well he should have been earlier."

"You're so demanding."

"You're _so_ observant." She retorted, spinning slowly.

Kerri grew even antsier at the sight of the carriage pulling up. Erik grabbed her hand to keep her still, and managed and authentic-looking smile as Monsieur O'Neal approached.

"Hello again. Don't you look lovely, Mrs. Delacroix?"

She thanked him and managed to stay still while the men engaged in idle conversation.

Eventually, the realtor produced a key to the front door, and leisurely, the three made their way up the front steps. He offered no explanation to the state of the exterior, which earned him points in Kerri's book because he hadn't tried to lie.

As soon as Erik stepped inside, he knew he'd made a mistake. The inside wasn't just well-kept, it was damn near perfect. Their footsteps echoed through the vast entryway and he felt Kerri's mood improve almost instantly. He could see her mentally placing furniture throughout the rooms on the tour, and even he could admit this house was up to standards.

"So, what do you think? Is it something to consider?"

Erik hesitated, glancing at his wife.

"How much is the asking price?"

"Monsieur O'Neal seemed shocked. Kerri was too, frankly.

"Umm, 1,574,040 francs, I believe."

"We'll take it." Erik produced a check book from inside his jacket. Kerri was doing her best not to get too excited, but as he delicately scrolled out the amount and his signature, she started to lose control. The men traded items, and Monsieur O'Neal cordially thanked them both as he bade the two good bye.

Kerri jumped on Erik in a hug as soon as they were alone.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it!" She kissed him.

"Why would I lie?"

"Well I don't know. But I at least expected you to argue a little!"

"Kerri, calm down. We still have to send a messenger back to Nice, and it will take days for our things to get here."

"I know that." She replied indignantly. "I can still be happy, can't I?"

Erik rolled his eyes, placing the key in his jacket pocket along with the checkbook.

"Come on. You said you wanted to visit your mother, right?"

She snorted. "No. When did I say that?"

"Last night."

"I did not!"

"Sure you did. At dinner."

"No, I never said that."

"We can go back to the house and ask Raoul, if you'd like?"

Kerri sighed, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

"Why did you have to ruin my day like that? I'm supposed to be happy and pregnant, not wondering if my pregnancy will save my life or get me killed."


End file.
